


Prom Dresses Don't Belong on Super Soldiers

by PaxieAmor



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Drag Queens, Prom Dresses, The Things I Write For My Friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 04:16:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaxieAmor/pseuds/PaxieAmor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just because it was for a good cause didn't mean Steve wasn't going to regret it in the future...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prom Dresses Don't Belong on Super Soldiers

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my buddy [Crystal](http://crazyk-c.tumblr.com)!

Like most things in Steve’s life, this was, again, Clint’s fault. However, this time included the influence of one Tony Stark.

“It’s for charity, Capcicle!” Tony said cheerfully as Steve looked at himself in the mirror. “You walk in, do a little twirl, we get you out of there and back into your normal, boring attire.”

“I have to say, Cap,” Clint added with a grin, “the white with black flowers is a good pattern for you. Is that an empire waist or an A-line?” Steve Rogers hated everything about his life right now.

It started when a local chapter of the Boys and Girls Club of America (BGCA), an organization that Steve regularly volunteered with, was having a Drag Prom Fashion Show: teens would be able to purchase new and gently used prom attire that would be modeled by volunteers. Steve, not knowing what drag meant, agreed to be a model when he heard that Darcy was going to be modeling as well. When he learned what drag meant, he could only hope that that no one else ever found out about his participation.

It would have worked, if only the fashion show wasn’t being co-presented by the Maria Stark Foundation. And if only the whole thing hadn’t been Tony’s idea, with input from one Clint Barton.

“Why aren’t either of you two participating in this?” Steve asked as he slid his giant arms into the long black opera gloves that were to go with his dress. As Clint said, it was a white dress with a black floral print that came with a black half jacket and, of course, the opera gloves.

“Who says I’m not?” Clint asked with a grin. “I’ve got a purple number that is to die for. I’ll just have to get used to wearing heels again.”

“Again?” Tony asked with a grin. Clint shrugged.

“Not all of us are billionaires, Stark.”

“What about you, Tony?” Steve asked, turning to look at the man. “Shouldn’t you be taking part of this on MSF’s account?”

“I will be! Just not in drag.”

“What?”

“There’s actually a law against me going in drag anywhere in New York City.” Steve opened his mouth to protest, but that… that honestly sounded like a law that would be forced upon Tony.

“Do I want to know why that is?” he asks instead.

“I was drunk at the time, so no, probably not.” Steve sighed, looking at himself in the mirror. He didn’t look half bad, really, and that brought a slight blush to his cheeks.

“I don’t have to wear heels, do I?”

“Nah,” Clint replied. “You’re tall enough without them. Come on, we’ll find you some nice flats.”

***

Steve had to admit, a drag fashion show was a lot less traumatizing, and a lot more fun than he’d thought it would be. Thankfully, he wasn’t the only inexperienced model there, and the professionals were more than willing to give advice to anyone that would listen.

“You got to swing your hips!” Steve was informed by a very flamboyant man; he called himself Hennessey, and was wearing a long, skintight green sequined gown. “You got to sell the movement of the gown, make every girl out there think of themselves in the dress. Make them think ‘if Captain America can sashay in dress, and look damn good in it, then I can too’!” He looked at Steve, giving him a wink and a smile. “That is your job, Captain. To make every girl believe they can look just as good as you do.”

“I’m positive they’ll look better than me,” Steve said with a grin. “This gown is way too short; one good gust of wind could blow it up and everyone would know what kind of underpants I wear.” Steve continued to smile as Hennessey burst out laughing. Tony had tried to talk Steve into going commando; Steve had politely declined.

“You’re up, Captain!” Hennessey informed him a moment later. “Your friend, Hawkguy is doing his pose and turn now, and there’s one more person between you and him, so you may want to get into position.” Steve moved over to the on deck location, a square of carpet outlined with blue painter’s tape, and watched the closed circuit feed of the runway; sure enough, Clint was at the end, wearing a strapless purple velvet dress with matching high heels… and a long blonde wig. His hands were on his hips right up until the moment he flipped his hair off his shoulder with his fingers, ruby red lips pouting as he made his way towards the backstage area, ignoring all the catcalls and whistles he was getting. Clearly, Clint was one of the professionals.

“Knock ‘em dead, Cap!” Clint said with a grin, as he walked towards the changing rooms.

“Yeah,” Steve replied, feeling his stomach turning a little. This was going to go over well, Captain America scared of walking down a runway in drag…

“You look _amazing_ ,” Tony’s voice said as Steve felt a hand clap on his shoulder. Steve felt himself relaxing slightly as he turned towards Tony.

“Thanks, Tony… what on earth are you wearing?” The fact that Tony was wearing a pink tuxedo with matching pink converse sneakers really shouldn’t have been surprising to Steve, and yet it was. Not because of the color, which really just brought out the color in his face, but because of what it was made of. “Is that…”

“Duct tape?” Tony asked with a grin. “Hell yes it is.”

“Why are you wearing a duct tape tuxedo?”

“There’s a whole scholarship for this kind of thing; just want to make sure kids know that if they don’t find anything here tonight, they can always make something and win some cash for school.”

“That’s actually brilliant.”

“I know.” Tony smiled slyly and held his arm out to Steve. “Captain Rogers, will you allow me to escort you to the runway?”

“Just to it?” Steve asked, but looped his arm into Tony’s anyway. “I would be deeply honored Mr. Stark.” Tony’s smile brightened as he walked Steve up to the runaway. The MC, someone from the BGCA was announcing how much they had raised so far, that they’d exceeded their goal thanks to everyone in the audience.

“They’ve got what they need,” Tony said. “You could just back out now.” Steve shook his head.

“You know I’d never do that.”

“Yeah, I do.” Tony rose up on his toes and kissed Steve on the cheek. “Go get ‘em, handsome.”

“And now,” the MC said. “Our last model for the evening: Captain America himself, Steve Rogers!” Steve put his hands onto his hips and walked out just as Hennessey told him to; one foot in front of the other, swinging his hips like it was going out of style. The yells and whistles from everyone in the crowd bought a blush to his cheeks, but he kept his eyes focused on the end of the catwalk. He stopped where he’d been told too, shifting his weight from his right foot to his left as he smiled like he was back on the USO tours. He turned to start back towards the other end of the catwalk when he became aware  of a sudden light breeze on his legs. Turning his head, he could see someone, one of the BGCA volunteers, turning up a fan on the catwalk. Before Steve could do anything about it, the fan was turned on high and he felt his skirt go flying up.

For anyone wondering, Captain America wears boxer briefs; tonight was a pair Tony had gotten him, with Pac-Man front and center and one of the ghosts on the back.


End file.
